


Putting Himself Out There

by irena_adler



Series: Public Places [1]
Category: Die Hard (Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Chatting & Messaging, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Surprises
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-04-21 21:19:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14293680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irena_adler/pseuds/irena_adler
Summary: Matt discovers John has joined a gay singles chat room and anonymously seduces him.





	Putting Himself Out There

**Putting Himself Out There--**

John paced back and forth in his small apartment, passing by the computer again and again and eyeing it. Finally, he stopped and sat himself in front of it.

It was a nice computer, with one of those new thin screens and everything. Matt Farrell had designed and set it up for him after the Fire Sale, when a few TV appearances had made John temporarily flush with cash.   He thought briefly about emailing Matt, but couldn’t figure out what to say. What could he have in common with the young hacker anyway? John took a strong grip on his uncertainties and went to the website.

He’d found this chat room website a few days ago, when he’d finally gotten up the nerve to go searching for a place where he could talk anonymously about the strange thoughts he’d been having. He didn’t want one of those sex rooms – God knows he wasn’t ready for that stuff yet – just some place to hang out. Since he couldn’t find a website called ‘Old Farts That Are Having Some Sort of Midlife Crisis Brought On By Nearly Dying Yet Again and Are Now Thinking About Looking at Guys for the First Time’, he’d settled for a friendly-looking gay website, that claimed to have a casual chat room for older men. But he’d never gotten farther than the button labeled ‘Enter the Chat Room’.

This time, he clicked on the button then stared at the prompt for username for a moment before typing in **NYCop**. He didn’t want people jerking him around so decided that he’d put that out there first. He came up with a password – Cowboy – then started reading what other people were chatting about in the main room. 

What he saw calmed his fears a little, they were talking about restaurants and football and what some idiot Senator had done. Clenching his jaw – he hated feeling so anxious – he typed in—

**NYCop: hello everyone**

There was a sudden silence in the room and John wondered if maybe his username was a bad idea after all. 

**NYCop: just here to chat, guys.**

Continued silence.

**NYCop: Shit, guys, I’m new to this maybe I’m gay thing, and I could use somebody to talk to.**

A brief pause then a sudden flurry of posts, mostly asking if he was really a cop. 

**NYCop: yes, I’m really a cop, been one for ages.**

Another flurry of questions about his ‘maybe being gay’.

**NYCop: I don’t know, just …**

John cleared his throat and wiped his forehead. This was what he was here for.

**NYCop: The recent meltdown in New York and elsewhere made me take a second look at my life.**

That was safe enough. No one could jump from there to John ‘goddamn-savior’ McClane.

**NYCop: I’ve been married, have two kids. I still love my ex-wife, but almost like a sister. I’m not in love with her and don’t know if I ever was.**

John pushed back from the computer and went to get a beer. He didn’t want to be sober for this. When he got back, his screen was full of comments and questions about the recent Fire Sale and life changes and ‘passing as straight’. John responded with encouraging noises, but generally not putting any more of himself out there. Before long, many of the users were telling their stories about being late bloomers and unfulfilled husbands. John sipped his beer and read and found some comfort in their stories. Perhaps he wasn’t so fucking unusual after all.

He was just about to log off, when he got a request for a private conversation from someone that had made a few comments but mostly been as quiet as John. He figured the guy was probably a jerk, but decided to answer anyway. The sooner he got it clear in this room that he wasn’t to be messed with, the better.

**NYCop: What do you want?**

**CompGuy: right to the point very cop-like**

**NYCop: No, shit, Sherlock. I’m a cop. I don’t lie, even in a place like this.**

**CompGuy: Right right sorry I’m in New York too - NYCop is New York cop, right?**

**NYCop: yeah**

**CompGuy: That fire sale was pretty scary, huh?**

John frowned.

**NYCop: why do you call it a fire sale?**

**CompGuy: Oh … I heard that somewhere on some TV news or something. I’m sure I did.**

John thought maybe that was possible, though he had figured only hackers would call it that.

**NYCop: yeah, it was pretty scary shit.**

**CompGuy: you probably had to deal with lots of looting and stuff, right?**

John began to sweat again and regretted his boast that he wouldn’t lie.

**NYCop: I was needed elsewhere. So, Mets or Yankees?**

**CompGuy: are you kidding me? Yankees all the way!**

**NYCop: Good choice. You ever been to a game?**

Quite a while later, John said that he needed to get to bed to be ready for work tomorrow and logged off. He stretched and saw with a surprise that he’d been chatting with ‘CompGuy’ for two hours. They’d talked about baseball and Yankee stadium, then good places to eat near the stadium and on to really bad restaurants in NYC and horror stories of food poisoning. It had been a casual, comfortable conversation and John was really pleased. That was one of the things he wanted to find out – whether gay guys were really guys any more. ‘CompGuy’ certainly seemed normal, like some guy he’d meet in a break room at the station, though more talkative than anyone he’d ever met. There hadn’t been any lewd suggestions or uncomfortable moments, after they got off the topic of the Fire Sale.  _So maybe I’m not as screwed up as I think I am. Naw …_ John shut off the computer and went to bed.

 

John hadn’t planned on going back to the chat room so soon, but that next night he couldn’t find anything to watch on TV and gave in to the urge to turn the computer on again.

He went back into the chat room and got welcomed by a few people that remembered him from the night before. They then talked more in the main room about being an older guy just new to the idea of being gay. He put as little of himself out there as he could, just enough to get other people talking. He was good at that – it was just like an interrogation – and he was able to read more stories that made him feel slightly less alone.   

That feeling was stronger when he got another request for a private chat from ‘CompGuy’

**CompGuy: Hi! I wasn’t sure you’d be back.**

**NYCop: Why not? Thought you might have scared me off?**

**CompGuy: I bet you don’t scare easy, but I’m not sure what you’re looking for here.**

**NYCop: just somebody to talk to, that’s all.**

**CompGuy: cool me too. not looking for anything else.**

Then they were off again, arguing pleasantly about today’s Yankees loss and which areas in the city were the ugliest.

 

The next few weeks passed like that, with John logging on most nights and stopping briefly in the main room before going off to a private chat with ‘CompGuy’ for an hour or so. ‘CompGuy’ was really funny and smart, with a quick sarcastic wit that John enjoyed matching up with. He wasn’t afraid to defend his opinions when they disagreed, which was often, but also listened to John’s opinions. ‘CompGuy’ was obviously educated and typed like lightning. He always seemed to be in the chat room, or at least came on a few minutes after John did. ‘CompGuy’ had let slip a few things and John knew that the guy was white, not particularly physically active but not fat, and had once lived in Jersey. John tried to be careful, but wondered what he’d let slip.

Finally, one night, ‘CompGuy’ asked for more.

**CompGuy: Can I ask you a personal question?**

**NYCop: you can ask, but I don’t know if I’ll answer.**

**CompGuy: Have you ever thought about … acting on your newly discovered impulses?**

John’s palms started to sweat.

**NYCop: you mean ask a guy on a date?**

**CompGuy: or just have sex with one**

John took a deep breath and tried to steady himself. He’d rather have a gun pointed at him than answer this question, but he was no coward.

**NYCop: Not yet**

**CompGuy: Maybe someday?**

**NYCop: … maybe**

**CompGuy: Cool**

**NYCop: My turn – you’re not really old enough for this chat room, are you?**

**CompGuy: Shit … how’d you know?**

John sighed. 

**NYCop: Lots of little things. I’m a cop, remember. You’re some under-aged girl, aren’t you**

**CompGuy: No, no way, I’m a guy and an adult.**

**NYCop: how old?**

**CompGuy: does it really matter?**

**NYCop: How OLD?**

**CompGuy: 35**

**NYCop: Don’t you fucking lie to me!**

**CompGuy: How do you … okay, 25. Seriously.**

John’s mouth went dry.

**NYCop: Shit, you’re the age of my kid?**

**CompGuy: So? That doesn’t mean we can’t be friends, can we?**

**NYCop: no, I just—**

John stopped and stared at the screen. Then he reached out and turned off the computer. He stumbled to the kitchen, got himself a beer and downed it, still standing at the fridge. He got another beer and opened it and drank half of it before he could breathe again.

_Shit_. He’d started to like ‘CompGuy’. As in _like_ ‘CompGuy’. He was thinking … romantic thoughts about a guy. A guy he hardly knew. A twenty-five-year-old guy.

John gulped the rest of his beer and grabbed another.

 

John didn’t log on to the computer the next day, a Saturday, and not just because the light from the monitor aggravated his hangover headache. Sunday, he went into work and took his anger out on a mugger, which got him called into the Captain’s office and a curt reminder of the possibility of parking-ticket duty. So he ended his day in an even fouler mood. He went by the gym and beat the shit out of a punching bag. Which just made him tired as well as pissed.

He stormed into his apartment, threw his stuff down and switched on the computer. He logged onto the chat room and waited impatiently for ‘CompGuy’ to appear. When he did, just a few minutes later, John went straight to the point.

**NYCop: are you just fucking around on me or what?**

**CompGuy: uh what?**

**NYCop: Why the hell are you pretending to be my age? Do you just like jerking around old guys or what?**

**CompGuy: is it so bad that I’m younger? We still have fun talking.**

John’s anger powered his fingers faster than his brain could stop it.

**NYCop: Talking? Is that what we’re doing here? I thought you and I were –**

John yanked his hands away from the keyboard, breathing hard.

**CompGuy: I thought you were just looking for someone to talk to.**

John grimaced. That’s what he had said, what he had thought, until he’d started feeling a connection that he hadn’t in a long time.

**NYCop: I did, I just –**

John didn’t know what else to say and was reaching for the off switch when CompGuy said,

**CompGuy: Don’t you dare disappear on me again. I like you I like you a lot and I want to meet you. Don’t you dare disappear, you bastard.**

John’s heart started slamming against his ribcage as he stared at the words on his screen.  _Where are the terrorists when you need them?_

**CompGuy: Yeah I said I wanted to meet you. I want to meet you and have sex with you and don’t you dare vanish without answering me.**

**NYCop: uh**

**CompGuy: ok, that’s at least not vanishing. Yeah, I’m younger than you, but we seem to get along fine. I think about you all the time. You have no idea how turned on you make me. I jerk off to the image of you holding me down and fucking me into jelly.**

Suddenly the blood was pounding in a different part of John’s anatomy – his cock.

**NYCop: shit**

**CompGuy: Does that surprise you, cop? Does that disgust you? Or maybe, just maybe, the idea of a young, eager lover makes you go hard? I can teach you everything about guy sex and you can practice on me over and over**

**NYCop: shit … what do you …**

**CompGuy: what do I want to do with you? what _don’t_ I want to do? I’ll spread myself on the bed underneath you and hold up my knees so that you can see my tight asshole  I’ll push my fingers inside my ass, prepping myself for you. god I’m so hard thinking about it   and you listening to me tell you this god I’m so hard**

He wasn’t the only one.

**CompGuy: when I’m ready, you push your huge cop meat into me and fill me up so good I feel like I’m going to split open and then you start moving and fucking me you slam into me and hit my sweet spot and I’m screaming and you’re grunting and oh god say I can come please god**

John was panting with arousal.

**NYCop: Do it.**

There was a long pause and John imagined he could hear the sound of skin against skin, harsh breaths as CompGuy’s cock jumped in his hand. John put his own hand on his cock, pressing through his jeans. It was a long time since he’d been so hard.

**CompGuy: god thank you god that felt so good did you come, did you shot your wad?**

John didn’t allow himself to think before he answered.

**NYCop: No kid I’m waiting until I meet you in person**

**CompGuy: Really? Oh yes when now?**

John chuckled weakly.

**NYCop: not now, tomorrow**

**CompGuy: please yes you won’t regret it**

**NYCop: tomorrow night.   Damn Yankees Bar 8 o’clock.**

**CompGuy: Yes yes I’ll see you there yes**

**NYCop: how will you know me? I’m not gonna wear my uniform.**

**CompGuy: oh yeah, right … I’ll wear a Yankees cap.**

**NYCop: okay tomorrow night**

Then, before John could change his mind, he logged out and shut off his computer.

He sat for a long time, staring at the blank screen and rubbing his cock through his jeans. He had just done what he’d told so many people never to do – arrange to meet up with someone he’d met online. To have sex. To have _sex._  Guy sex with a young, eager lover who wanted him to fuck him into the bed … 

“Fuck!” John groaned and came in his jeans.

 

John was fortunate to have a tough hostage situation on his shift the next day, or else he would have spent the whole day obsessing about this stranger he was going to meet in a bar tonight.  _It’s in public, it’ll be safe. The guy won’t know me because he’s the one wearing the identification. If he looks off at all, I’ll just turn around and leave._

Even with that in mind, John’s nerves were jumping when he got to the bar. He pulled the collar of his leather jacket up higher and looked around. There were two people with Yankee’s hats, but John quickly dismissed the guy with the white beard. The other was a man sitting at a table, facing away from him. He was slim, and looked tense, fingers tapping the beer in front of him. John got closer. There was something familiar about those shoulders …

Then the man looked up and it was Matt Farrell. And he didn’t look surprised.

“What the fuck!” John shouted. 

Matt held out his hand. “John, hi, uh—”

John turned around and stormed out of the bar. He didn’t want to hear whatever Matt wanted to say because it was going to be bad, painful and humiliating.

“John, John, wait!”

John stomped across the parking lot. He strode past his car – he needed to work off some anger before driving a deadly weapon – and continued blindly towards a nearby office building. 

_He’s probably out of money and going to blackmail me_ , John thought with heavy dread.

“John, John, _McClane_!” Matt shouted behind him.

John halted and glared at the man-- _kid_ panting up behind him. Shouting his full name across the parking lot was not a good way to start.

“Wait, please,” Matt said, finally reaching him. Then he had to lean against the wall of the office building and try to catch his breath. It didn’t help that he was dragging that stupid bag along with him.

“Hang on,” Matt panted. 

John folded his arms and glared. Matt looked just the same as he had last time John had seen him – skinny, pale, and hair in his eyes.

When he got tired of waiting for Matt to catch his breath, John snapped, “How much do you want?”

“I, uh, wha?”

“How much do you want?” John repeated harshly.

“Why, uh, I don’t want money!”

“What then?” John said. “Want me to kill somebody for you?”

Matt’s eyes went round. “Shit, McClane, I just wanted to get to know you, show you that we could be friends if you’d just give it a chance.”

“Friends, yeah,” John snapped. “You’ve proved your point, hack-boy.”

“But, but, but that wasn’t the point!”

“Then what was?” John ground out.

“You! Me and you, friends and, and maybe more and, God, I want you to fuck me, okay?”

John’s heart did a painful sideways skip and he stared. A blush crept up and over Matt’s face, warming the pale skin. 

“That stuff you said,” John said very softly. “That wasn’t a joke?”

“No, no way. I meant it— _mean_ it all.”

John continued to stare at Matt and, like sometimes happened during interrogation when he learned a key fact about a suspect, Matt seemed to shift in front of him, changing from an annoying but useful tag-along to … what?  _Someone with possibilities._

Matt stared silently back at him, the blush glowing in his cheeks, his lips slightly parted. 

Growling, John yanked off Matt’s cap and tossed it away. 

Matt’s eyes grew even wider. “Whoa, wait, I’m sorry that—” Matt started but John ignored him and grabbed the back of Matt’s head. He dug his fingers into Matt’s soft hair and tilted his head up, then smashed his lips to Matt’s.

Matt squeaked in surprise then made a desperate, needy sound in the back of his throat and grabbed hold of John’s jacket. John plundered Matt’s sweet, willing mouth while Matt melted against him. Matt’s pliancy sent unexpected fire through John’s body, and John stepped closer, pressing Matt against the smooth facing of the building behind him while he continued to explore his mouth.

Matt’s body felt odd but good against him. There were flat planes where John was used to curves, firm muscle where he was used to softness. Yet, it felt somehow right, like Matt was made to fit tightly against him. It wasn’t quite perfect, though, so John reached down and grabbed hold of Matt’s ass. He lifted him off his feet, pulling him upwards until their crotches lined up.  _Now that’s perfect …_

“Shit, oh,” Matt breathed against John’s lips.

John’s mouth moved to Matt’s neck as he ground his erection against Matt’s.

“Please, please,” Matt moaned. “Let’s go to your place now.”

“No,” John growled. “I’m going to fuck you right now, right here.”

Matt gave a faint whimper and arched up against him.

“I want to – what did you say – slam my ‘huge cop meat’ into your ‘tight ass’.”

“Oh, fuck, please, yes …” Matt panted. “But you don’t know … oh God …”

John rumbled into Matt’s ear. “How hard can it be, insert dick into hole.”

 Matt moaned, all of his coherency lost as he tried to climb into John’s clothes.

Grinning, John set Matt back down and stepped away. He looked around – they were well out of sight of the parking lot – and began to unzip his jeans.

Matt watched him with wide eyes as John pushed down his jeans and boxers to his thighs and freed his aching cock. 

“You, too,” John said, using gruffness to hide a sudden self-consciousness. He’d never had anyone complain about the size of his cock but he’d also not had someone gaze at it so hungrily before.

“I wanna …” Matt said, licking his lips.

“Later,” John growled. He knew he wouldn’t last a second with that hot mouth on his cock. “Now, pull down your pants already.”

Still keeping his eyes on John’s cock, Matt fumbled open his jeans and pushed them down. John’s lust-hazed mind tried to figure out the angles of penetration. Unsure, he went for the image that Matt had given him in the chat room – Matt with his knees pulled up to his chest.  _But how to do that standing up?_

Hesitating then moving quickly again, Matt pulled his jeans back up enough to take off his shoes and socks then stripped out of his underwear and jeans completely. Now it was John’s turn to stare at the young, half-naked body. Matt’s cock was standing straight up and as flushed as his face. John reached for him and began to push Matt’s legs apart.

“Not self-lubricating,” Matt gabbled. “ _Not_ self-lubricating.”

“Oh,” John frowned. “Do you …?”

“In my bag, my bag.”

“You came prepared.”

“Just hopeful, oh God, please hurry.”

John released Matt and located the bag which had ended up on the ground at some point. In the bag, John found a small laptop, empty cans of Red Bull, and a bunch of other stuff, including a bottle of lube and condoms.  _Oh, right, condom. God, I almost forgot! I’ve gone insane…_  John quickly unwrapped and rolled a condom down his cock. 

He squirted some clear lubricant on his fingers and then frowned at Matt. Matt turned around and spread his legs. It was a glorious sight.

“Just push it inside, one finger, and sort of loosen me up,” Matt said breathily. “Then add a second finger.”

Not allowing himself any time to think about it, John did just as Matt directed. It felt and looked really strange, but Matt seemed to enjoy it. And just imagining his cock inside this tight tunnel made John’s fingers shake with adrenaline.

“Okay, I’m ready, now, now,” Matt gasped.

John pulled his fingers out and wiped them on his pulled-down jeans. He turned Matt back around and Matt looked surprised, but when John began to lift up his right knee, Matt quickly got the idea. John held onto Matt and pushed both his knees up, bending Matt nearly in half, but Matt didn’t seem to find it uncomfortable. Pressing Matt against the wall with his chest, John bent his own knees, lined up his cock and pushed upward into the slick, tight tunnel.

“Shit, fuck, God, John,” Matt moaned and John groaned in agreement. No woman had ever felt this good. 

John shifted slightly away from the wall, and Matt settled against him, his legs wrapped around John’s torso and his hands splayed against the wall. John kept a firm grip on Matt’s ass.

Experimentally, John rocked against him, sliding his cock within Matt’s ass. Matt made a strange hiccupping-moaning sound and John felt Matt’s cock jump against his stomach. John rocked again, pleasure shooting through him, curling his toes and sending hot flashes to his brain. Matt slid against the smooth wall, his body fully under John’s control.

Matt looked like he was trying to fight closing his eyes, but he soon did and then John could watch Matt’s face without embarrassment. The boy– _man_ was unexpectedly beautiful like this. He was gasping and begging and whimpering, his needy sounds like honey dripping into John’s ears.

John wanted to thrust forever into that tight ass, but it had been a long time for him and he wasn’t going to last much longer. 

“John, please,” Matt gasped. “Your hand …”

John got the idea and, balancing Matt carefully, took a firm grip on Matt’s warm cock. 

John didn’t have a chance to think about this new experience before Matt was groaning and coming all over his hand and his ass was squeezing John’s cock into a whole new level of mind-blowing. John stiffened, then he was exploding inside Matt, thrusting hard up into that pliant body, crying out something wordless.

After a long, white-out moment, John stopped rocking and remembered to start breathing again.

“Matt, fuck …” John panted, pressing his forehead against Matt’s.

“Yes, that’s what you just did,” Matt said shakily.

“Yeah, yeah,” John laughed. “Yeah, I did.”

John’s legs quickly began to tremble, so they untangled themselves and wiped down with some wet-wipes that Matt had in his bag. John took off his condom and tied it closed then wrapped it in a paper towel.  With much grumbling, at least on John’s side, they got dressed again and sat down against the wall.

In silence, they rested against the cool wall. It reminded John of a moment during the Fire Sale insanity, when they had sat together, trying to catch their breath. But that hadn’t lasted long before someone had started shooting at them again. John was happy to say that things were quite different now.

Yet … one thing bothered him. 

“But, kid, how did you know, I mean how were you in _that_ chat room and know it was me?”

Matt looked uneasy. He put his head down and peered up at John sideways, through his bangs. “When I set up your computer, I kinda … put this program on it that, uh, watches what you do.”

John stared at him then snapped angrily, “ _What_?” 

“Hey, sorry,” Matt said. “I wasn’t planning on spying on you, it was so that I could help you with computer problems, you know? You could call me and tell me that something was wrong with your computer and I could see right what was happening.   Honest, I swear to God that’s what it was for.”

John’s eyes narrowed. “And?”

“And, uh, I hadn’t heard from you in a while, and I, uh, told my program to notify me the next time you logged on to your computer. That would tell me you were home and I was going to call or drop by or something. Then I saw that you were looking at gay chat rooms and I about had a heart attack.”

“That’s a serious invasion of privacy,” John growled.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry, really, it just happened. Then I thought it would be great to meet you anonymously, and see how we got along. Really, I didn’t mean anything by it.”

John looked at him for a tense moment. 

Eyes frightened, Matt held up his hands. “John, Officer McClane, I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to spy on you.”

“You’ll take it off my computer?”

“Yes, yes, of course, yes!”

“And never do spying shit on me again?”

“Of course not, no never. Are you going to kill me now?”

John’s head fell back against the wall and he laughed tiredly. “Kid, I don’t think I could kill an ant at the moment.”

“And when you’ve rested up and got your strength back?”

John turned his head to look at Matt. The hacker was half his age but they really did have a lot in common, as their lengthy chats had shown him. It had been a long time since John had had a good friend. He’d try starting with that, and see if anything else came along later. Though he was going to fuck Matt again as soon as he could get it up again.  _Maybe next week. Maybe I should look into Viagra._

John reached out for Matt’s shoulder and gripped it. Matt flinched, then John smiled at him. Matt smiled back uncertainly, hope like sunlight in his big brown eyes.

“When I’ve rested up and got my strength back …” He paused, drawing out the silence while Matt fidgeted.

“Yes?” Matt asked, unable to stand the wait. “What, what?”

Grinning, John pulled Matt closer. He put his lips to Matt’s ear and murmured, “Kid, I’m gonna take you to a Yankees game.”

  


End file.
